


Pin Drop

by silver_etoile



Category: SKAM (Netherlands), WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24558895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_etoile/pseuds/silver_etoile
Summary: It starts small. So small Jens doesn’t even notice it, not until Moyo, of all people, says one day, “Hey, isn’t that Jens’ shirt?”
Relationships: Jens Stoffels/Lucas van der Heijden
Comments: 3
Kudos: 108





	Pin Drop

It starts small. So small Jens doesn’t even notice it, not until Moyo, of all people, says one day, “Hey, isn’t that Jens’ shirt?”

Jens opens his mouth to say of course it’s his shirt, he’s wearing it, but then he realizes Moyo isn’t talking to him but to Lucas instead.

Lucas glances down at the shirt he’s wearing—nothing particularly special or noticeable about the red tee shirt Lucas has on except that Lucas has never worn a red shirt before and that is definitely the one Jens had been wearing the other day when Lucas had come over to “study.” The fact that they hadn’t gotten much studying done was irrelevant.

Lucas just shrugs in response, and Jens wonders when Lucas even took it.

“Jesus, you two are almost as bad as Robbe and Sander,” Moyo complains, but Jens would argue that fact. He and Lucas don’t spend every minute they’re together glued together. They don’t text late into the night about how much they miss each other, send sappy emojis back and forth until one of them falls asleep. Jens and Lucas are far cooler than that.

Lucas doesn’t even react to Moyo realizing he’s wearing Jens’ shirt, doesn’t even glance Jens’ way as if wondering what his reaction might be.

“Stealing my clothes now?” Jens asks once Moyo is distracted by Aaron arriving and he can murmur the question in Lucas’ ear.

Lucas blinks, as though surprised Jens said anything. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” Jens says easily, tugging at the hem of the shirt, a little too big on Lucas’ thinner frame. “I kinda like it.”

Lucas catches his eye and laughs, shoving Jens away from him, a tease that always brings Jens back closer. “Of course you do.”

Yeah, Jens thinks. He definitely likes it.

*

“My mom and sister are home,” Jens reminds Lucas as they sit on the couch, Jens’ arm casually resting behind Lucas’ head, as if the few inches of space between his fingers and Lucas’ hair will stop anything.

“So no handjobs under the blanket?” Lucas asks, snorting with laughter, as though he hasn’t done that exact thing before. He has, and Jens thought he was going to die trying to stop himself from making any noises with his mom in the next room. He could have killed Lucas then, but he’d just dragged him to his room a few minutes later and made Lucas come just as hard with his music turned up loud.

“Exactly,” Jens warns, but his hand falls to the back of Lucas’ neck instead, brushing over the skin, and he feels Lucas shiver at the light touch.

“Whatever you say,” Lucas agrees, a smirk at the edge of his lips, but he doesn’t pull the blanket over them, instead slipping off his shoes and curling up beside Jens instead. Maybe they will get through this movie.

As Jens takes a minute to watch Lucas instead of the movie, he smiles to himself at the way Lucas leans against his shoulder, knees tucked underneath him, feet peeking out. It’s warm and comfortable, the way it’s always seemed to be with Lucas.

Wait, he thinks as something clicks in his mind. Those are his socks on Lucas’ feet. He recognizes the pattern—it’s a pair his mom had given him for some holiday, a pair he hardly ever wears. But Lucas is wearing them, like maybe he just found them somewhere and slipped them on without thinking.

He opens his mouth to say something, but in the end, he doesn’t, drawing Lucas in closer so he can press his face to his hair and breath in the sweet scent of his conditioner.

“You okay?” Lucas asks when Jens catches himself sighing.

“Just watch the movie,” he says instead of answering, and he knows Lucas is smiling when he doesn’t reply and snakes an arm around Jens’ waist instead.

*

Things are easy with Lucas, always have been. There was no gay panic for Jens, no very confusing struggle with his feelings for the kid who moved to Antwerp in the middle of the year, the guy who took months to open up completely to Jens, to get past his thoughts on video games and to tell Jens the real reason he moved there. Jens had known he’d liked Lucas right away, knew it was something more than friendship at that party where Lucas had smiled at him over his beer and his heart skipped a beat.

Sometimes Jens wonders if it’s too easy. If something else is coming that’s going to suddenly make it hard or ruin it. But then he thinks that he’s just thinking too much and decides not to bother at all. Lucas is the one that thinks like that, not Jens.

“We’re gonna be late to meet the guys,” Jens says, as though he cares about being late—he doesn’t, not when Lucas’ lips slide up his throat, a soft kiss pressed here and there, a hot rush of breath against his skin that makes Jens stop caring about anything.

“Uh huh,” Lucas replies, barely a murmur as he bites at Jens’ jaw instead, light, a graze of teeth that makes Jens’ stomach bottom out. They can’t start this now, though, not when his phone will start pinging with texts any minute now from the guys, asking where the hell they are.

Tugging Lucas up on the bed, Jens rolls him over, catching the spark in Lucas’ eyes, the way he bites his lip as though this is all he wants. Fuck.

“You’re the one who volunteered to do this video with the guys,” Jens reminds him as Lucas’ hands slide up his back, pressing down on his shoulder blades, as if that will bring Jens closer.

“We can be late,” Lucas says easily, licking his lips, and Jens has to swallow down the heat rising on his skin.

“Not that late,” he says, although all he wants to do right now is say screw the guys and the vlog and just kiss Lucas until his lips are puffy and red, until Lucas is completely wrapped up in him, bodies hot and throbbing.

He shakes the thought from his mind as he forces himself to climb off Lucas, tries to ignore Lucas’ disappointed groan behind him.

“Fine,” Lucas says at length, crawling off the bed after Jens, pressing a kiss to his neck instead, right on the spot that send a shiver down Jens’ spine. He’s doing it on purpose.

As Jens turns, he watches Lucas grab his red hoodie off the floor and pull it on.

“What are you doing?” he asks, and Lucas glances up at him as he gets the sweatshirt over his head, sleeves falling past his fingers.

“It’s cold out,” he says, as though there’s no other explanation, and Jens can’t say anything as he watches Lucas roll up the sleeves, the rest of him swimming in the dark fabric. “What?” he asks when Jens just stares.

Jens can’t help it. The hoodie is way too big for Lucas, falling over his hips, and Lucas’ hands can barely reach the pocket on the front. It makes him look smaller somehow, the gaping neck exposing his collar bone, but it isn’t sex that Jens is thinking of as his eyes graze down Lucas’ chest.

Lucas looks soft and cozy and warm, all wrapped up in Jens’ hoodie, like an animal burrowing into a blanket, and it makes Jens think of things like hot cocoa and patterned socks and Lucas curled up in his lap, Jens’ fingers combing through his hair. And he thinks he’d be content with that.

It’s a thought he’s never had before and it catches him off-guard as Lucas frowns at him now, the way he’s not responding.

“Jens?” he asks, taking a step closer, brow furrowed, and the sleeve falls back down as Lucas touches his arm gently. “I thought you didn’t mind.”

“Why do you do it?” Jens hears himself say, watching Lucas shove the sleeve back up.

Lucas hesitates a second, and Jens wonders if he’s going to get the truth. Not that Lucas lies to him but sometimes he gets the real answer in bits and pieces instead of all at once. It took a long time for Lucas to open up, to stop keeping his thoughts to himself, to stop considering everything he said first. 

Finally, Lucas shrugs, not quite meeting Jens’ gaze. “It just reminds me of you.”

“But I’m right here,” Jens says, and Lucas makes a little face that Jens doesn’t understand.

“I don’t know,” he admits, stuffing his hands in the pockets, and Jens feels his heart do a stupid little flop in his chest, as though Lucas can’t get any cuter. “It smells like you, and it’s big and warm and soft. Like you.”

Warmth floods Jens as he grins, pulling Lucas to him by the swaths of fabric at his sides. “You think I’m soft?”

“Not like that, you dirty-minded freak,” Lucas says, but he’s teasing, Jens can tell by the way he bites down his smile. “I think you’re chill and you make me feel like things are okay even when they’re not.”

Pulling Lucas into his arms, Jens hugs him instead of replying, pressing a kiss to his temple because he doesn’t know what to say. He never knows what to say when Lucas drops lines like these on him, words that make him feel like his whole chest is expanding with an unnamed emotion, like for a second, he can feel what Lucas does, as if his heart can’t swell anymore, might just burst from the happiness inside.

“You really don’t mind?” Lucas asks after a second, voice muffled in Jens’ shoulder, hands around Jens’ waist, holding on tightly.

Smiling, Jens steps back, hands sliding to Lucas’ cheeks as he leans in to kiss him.

“I think you should always wear my clothes,” he says, completely serious, even as Lucas laughs, looking relieved, as though maybe he expected a different answer. “You look hot.”

“Come on,” Lucas says, twining his fingers with Jens’ but leaning in for one more kiss, soft and lingering. “We’re already late.”

“We can be a little later,” Jens says easily, but Lucas smiles this time, pulling away from Jens’ mouth and smirking over his shoulder as he heads for the door.

“Hold that thought for later,” Lucas just says, and Jens thinks he definitely will. But for now, he follows Lucas, a hand anchored in the loose fabric of his hoodie as they head for the park and what will surely now be a very long afternoon.


End file.
